


With Or Without You

by madamebomb



Series: The Smoke Demons Series [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi, True Love, but some heavy shit goes down, happily ever afters are good, rape mention, sex will be in the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-06 04:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamebomb/pseuds/madamebomb
Summary: A new threat rises from the ashes of the Smoke Demons, with a plot to stop the Fire Lord's upcoming wedding. As Zuko and Suki struggle to stay together with everything working against them, Sokka and Azula find themselves thrown back together working to take down the threat to the throne. Will they find their happily ever after? Or is it too late for them all?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is late, but I've been busy as a bee lately! But I'm ready to write this and conclude the Smoke Demons Saga.

 

“Where is he?” Katara asked as soon as the door opened. Hakoda's surprised expression at seeing his daughter faded into a look of grim determination. The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe stepped back from the door, holding it open as he jerked his head toward the warm, welcoming insides of his hut.

“In here,” Hakoda said, as Katara noted the lines of stress on her father's face—lines that hadn't been there the last time she'd seen him. If the letter he had sent her was anything to go by, she knew what was putting that look on his face, and she didn't like it one bit.

Katara stepped inside of the warm hut, followed closely by Aang, and then by Toph, who entered with a sigh of relief, tugging a scarf away from her chattering jaw. Hakoda closed the door as they moved from the antechamber into the hut's great room.

Katara glanced around the space; nothing much had changed in the past six months. It was still home, with all of its familiar smells and books and art on the walls. But there was something wrong here, and she knew it. A vibe that felt tense and miserable, and seemed to infect the very walls.

“It's good to see you, Dad.”

“It's so good to see you, too,” Hakoda said when he walked out of the antechamber. He drew her into his arms and hugged her tightly. “I didn't mean for you to come all the way down here, but I am glad that you came.”

“My brother needs me, where else would I be?” Katara said into her father's warm hug. When he pulled away, he cupped her face and smiled a little, crinkles at the corners of his blue eyes. “Besides, it's been nearly a year since he left with that crazy bi... With _her._ I've been worried sick about him. Of course I came as soon as I could.”

Her father's frown deepened and she knew that he knew what she had been about to say. He didn't admonish her, but the frown remained, even as his hands dropped down her arms and took hers. The skin of his brown hands was rough, cracked and chapped by the relentless winter winds that howled through the South Pole even now.

There were new threads of silver in Hakoda's beaded hair, and new worries on his shoulders. He looked tired.

“He hasn't been up to many visitors,” Hakoda said slowly, glancing at one of the guest room doors. Hakoda's hut had three guest rooms, although one of those rooms was technically Katara's, as she kept some of her things there. She'd decided to live in Republic City with her husband, but the South Pole was still home in the ways that counted.

“What happened? You didn't say in your letter. I was so worried, and with everything with Zuko and... Is it...her? Is it the breakup?”

Hakoda opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped, wincing. “Yes and no. You should hear it from him. But he hasn't been out of his room in days, no matter what I've tried. Malina's been leaving trays outside the door, but he barely touches them.”

Katara's heart squeezed and she took a step toward the door. She'd never known Sokka to go off of food before. “That bad?”

“His heart is broken, Katara. And there are other things... He went through a lot in his year away. Sokka is...a changed man.”

Startled, Katara turned to meet her father's gaze, but the grimness in his eyes was edged by sadness now. She glanced at Aang, who was staring at his feet. Toph was leaning against the wall, her face down and away, her arms across her chest. They were just as worried about Sokka, but they knew she could handle this.

“I've got this,” Katara said, squaring her shoulders as she pulled out of her father's arms and marched purposefully over to the closed wooden door. She knocked on it and leaned forward, “Sokka? It's me. Katara. May I come in?”

There was no answer, and she turned and glanced at her father, who nodded. She knocked again.

“I know you're in there, so don't bother pretending. Dad's worried sick about you. Please, let me in.”

There was the sound of something thumping on the floor, then the drag of feet. She glanced down at the light spilling from the gap at the bottom of the door, and saw a shadow move across it.

“Sokka?”

“Go away, Katara,” came a rough reply that had her blinking, stumbling back a half step from the door. She hadn't known Sokka could sound like that. His voice had been so bleak, so tired.

What had he gone through to make him sound so hopelessly lost?

Her heart in her throat and tears in her eyes, she stepped back to the door and touched the wood. “You know I'm not going to, so you may as well open up right now and save me the trouble of Waterbending this thing off of its hinges.”

There was a sound like a dry chuckle from the other side, but it stopped almost immediately. “You'd do that, wouldn't you?”

“Of course, I would,” she said confidently, fingering the little skin of water she kept belted to her waist. One twist of her fingers, that was all it would take. “I don't think Dad or Malina would like me ruining their door though, so why don't you just open it and save me the trouble?”

Sokka sighed and the next moment the door opened with a creak, then she heard him shuffling away, his steps heavy. She glanced back at Aang and Toph, and her father, but they all looked grimly back at her.

Steeling herself, she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. The room was stuffy, lit only by a small fire smoldering in the stone hearth. There was a sour smell, and a sharp reek that shocked her into lifting her finger to her nose to block the smell.

Her gaze glanced across the room, and saw that it was strewn with clothing, weapons, and pieces of parchment with writing on it. When her eyes finally landed on Sokka, she gasped out loud and darted forward, but he held up a shaking hand to stop her and she skidded to a halt as her feet fouled on a broken fan half-buried in debris.

“Sokka?”

The ragged man before her shrugged and hung his head. He was sitting on the edge of a wooden stool beside the fire, just out of the glow of its smoldering heart. His hair was down, uncut and unkempt, heavy with grease. There was a thick beard on his face, untrimmed and starting to go wild. His clothing was stained and ill-fitting. He looked like he'd lost a lot of weight, or maybe he just looked smaller somehow, hunched on the stool.

When he tipped his head into the light, Katara's shock turned into a piercing pang of worry as her brother's blue eyes blinked bleakly at her from beneath his straggly hair. There was something wild in those eyes, something a little desperate and utterly, utterly broken.

“It's me, sis.”

“Oh, _Sokka!_ ” Katara breathed and darted forward, ignoring his signal to stay back this time. She dropped to her knees in front of him and threw her arms around him. Sokka was stiff in her arms for a long moment, and then something in him broke and he wrapped his arms around her and pushed his face into the crook of her neck.

“I missed you,” he managed in that rough voice, all gravel and glass. There was a smell on his breath, something alcoholic and strong. She recognized the little slur in his voice, too. He was drunk. He'd been drunk for days, if she was any judge.

“I missed you, too. I've been worried for so long... I didn't know if you were alive, or dead, or... I knew it was a mistake! I knew I shouldn't have let you go off with that witch!”

Sokka stiffened again, and pulled back. “What?”

Katara studied his face, trying to find her big brother in the care-worn lines of his face. The joy and humor that she had always relied on, even when it annoyed her, had been leached out of him. She wondered again what could have happened to her brother to make him look like this.

She thought she had a good idea. She'd heard those rumors for months, and now...

“Dad wouldn't say what happened when you were gone, but I got the feeling it was bad. Was it bad?”

“Some of it was bad,” Sokka said, and looked into the fire, his mouth turning down. “Some of it was _really_ bad. I don't want to talk about it...I did things... I became someone else, Katara. Sometimes I forgot who I was, and that's... I... The nightmares... I don't sleep much. I can't sleep...not without hearing... And... And I can't sleep without her.”

His voice broke on that last, and he looked down at his hands, which were trembling between them. He had scars on his hands, flat and shiny from some old burns. And there was a large scar on his forehead, jagged and white against his dark skin, like a lightning strike that ambled into the greasy thatch of his hairline.

Sorrow pierced Katara's worry, and she touched Sokka's face gently, turning his gaze back on her. “I heard about...about what happened. About the breakup. I'm so sorry, Sokka. I know you loved her. Dad said you were heartbroken and pining for her, but I didn't think he meant this badly. He was right, wasn't he?”

Sokka searched her face and then laughed a little. “Heartbroken and pining, huh? Pining yes. Heartbroken? I don't know. She did what she had to do, and I can't blame her for it. I couldn't help her, I didn't even know how. She left me because I was useless, so _heartbroken?_ No. It's something else I feel, Katara. At the same time, I miss her, but it's not about her. It's in my head. I'm all fucked up, but it's not her fault.”

Katara's brows lowered at that and she frowned.

“Did what she had to do? Was she... Was she angry at you for disappearing for all of those months or something? I can see why she might be, but that's not your fault, not really. You were trying to save Zuko's life! Surely she understood that once you explained?”

Sokka's bleak expression clouded over with confusion. “What?”

“It's not your fault Suki broke up with you! We all heard the rumors about her and Zuko and now... I don't know if you know this, but...Aang went to see Zuko after everything with the Smoke Demons. He said they're together. Zuko and Suki. You're not to blame for that! If she cheated on you, then that's her fault, and she didn't have to do that! And stop calling yourself useless!”

She felt a hot crack of anger in her. The persistent rumors coming out the Fire Nation had nearly sent her on a mission to save her brother's honor a time or two. She wasn't very happy with Zuko or Suki at the moment. Watching her brother's despair, she wanted to Waterbend them both off of a cliff.

Sokka ran a hand down his face and then leaned back in the chair. Another dry laugh, which was entirely without humor, and tinged with more than a bit of exhaustion, rattled his shoulders.

“ _Suki._ ”

“Yeah, Suki. I know you loved her, Sokka. I know she broke your heart.”

“She did, and she didn't, Katara...and that went both ways. This isn't about Suki, or her relationship with Zuko. She didn't cheat on me, though, rumors aside. I don't want you to be angry with her, she's a good person. She's a better person than I am, by far.” He added that last bit in a bitter mumble.

“Then why did you break up?”

“It's complicated. There were a lot of reasons. Mostly it's because _I_ cheated on _her._ ”

Katara stilled for a moment, staring at her brother. Then she sank back onto her heels, her hands primly folded in her lap.

“You did what?”

“Yeah. Cheated on her,” he nodded glumly.

“With whom?”

“You already know. There's no one else it could be,” Sokka mumbled, turning to the fire. He grabbed a poker and jabbed at the embers, stirring them, exposing their white-hot underbellies to the air. Katara watched the flames, trying to wrap her head around it.

“Her. She and...” Katara couldn't bring herself to say her name, or to even contemplate the scenarios pinging through her head at the moment. “You and... _Her._ ”

“Azula.”

Katara shot up, her head spinning all of a sudden. She put a hand to her forehead and started pacing back and forth, as Sokka jabbed at the embers desultorily, his shoulders hunched.

“You and Azula. You cheated on Suki with _Azula._ You slept with her?”

“Eventually. It's not... It's not as simple as all that, and I... I don't want to talk about it. I can't. That's not... That's not the _problem_.”

“Okay, you slept with her. Okay. And Suki broke up with you...because you slept with Azula. Makes sense.”

“That was part of it. She's in love with Zuko, Katara. I told you, it's complicated. It was a mutual breakup. I'm okay with it. Let it go.”

Katara paced back and forth, something alarming shouting in her brain. “Okay, so you're okay with the break up. You're fine with it? You don't love her...but you're pining over her?”

Sokka sent her an irritated look that was much closer to the brother she remembered than the morose stranger before her.

“I will always love Suki...but not like that. Not anymore. It's not her I'm pining over. Come on, Katara, put two and two together already. I know you already know.”

Something of Sokka's old sarcasm was back, and it flavored his rough, slightly drunk voice like pepper on a steak. It sizzled across her senses and she whirled on her brother, dropping her hand from her forehead.

“This... _you._..” She gestured to his ragged state, the bleakness in his haunted eyes, the longing and hopelessness. “You and Azula. You... Are you _in love_ with her?”

“Knew you'd get there eventually. Dad didn't tell you?”

“NO!” she barked, and glared at the closed door, as if she might stab daggers through it and into her father.

“He doesn't like her,” Sokka mumbled, stirring the embers again, his face turned away from her.

“What a shock! She is Azula, after all. What... How? HOW? HOW! You cannot tell me you're seriously pining away after _Azula!_ Sokka, she's a psychopath!”

Sokka threw the poker at the hearth with a clattering bang. It ricocheted off of the stones and sailed past her, just missing her by inches. Sokka surged to his feet and rounded on her, every inch of him filled with a rage that lit his eyes. Beneath his raggedy beard, she could see the grit of his teeth, the snarl of his lips.

“Don't call her that. _Ever.”_

Katara wasn't cowed by his anger, though it shocked her. She'd never seen her brother look at her like that. It was like she was facing a stranger, a dangerous stranger. There was something in his eyes, something feral, wild and tinged with the air of an injured animal who had been hunted too long by unseen predators and nightmares too real to run from.

Sokka—her Sokka—had never been so quick to anger before, and never at her. What had he gone through? What had that bitch put him through to change him so much from her beloved brother? She had sucked the life and laughter out of him. _She_ had put that anger in his eyes.

Hatred swelled in her, and she aimed it straight at Azula. It was a hatred that had simmered in her for years, ever since Azula had tried to take Aang from her. She could still remember those long, desperate hours she had spent healing Aang, tirelessly trying to bring him back from the precipice of death. His body was still scarred from Azula's attack, the lightning blast on his chest and even on the bottom of his foot, were still livid red, even all these years later. Every time they made love, she was reminded of how close she had come to losing him, and it made her hold him that much tighter.

And she was always, always reminded of the woman who had done it.

Azula was never far from Katara's mind, even during those years when she had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. Katara could still remember Zuko taking the blast that had been meant to kill her instead. She had spent many sleepless nights remembering that look on Azula's face, wondering if the woman would appear in their lives again, looking for revenge.

Azula had wanted to kill her. She would have, just as she had tried to kill Aang.

The woman was a monster. Unhinged. Dangerous. Murderous.

When Mai had brought the woman back into their lives, Katara had wanted nothing more than to throw her into a cell and toss away the key. She'd known that locking her up was the safest course of action, but no one had wanted to listen to her.

No, they'd wanted to trust her with a mission to save Zuko. Despite the fact that she had tried to kill him any number of times before. Despite the fact that none of them trusted her. And Sokka...

Sokka had walked like a lamb to the slaughter into the reach of her murderous intent, agreeing almost without arguing, to join the Smoke Demons, to travel with Azula. Azula, who was crazy. Azula, whom Katara didn't trust.

And her brother had fallen in love with her?

Katara's jaw hardened. It was too unlikely.

No, she had seen how manipulative Azula was, even at age fourteen. Time could only have honed her skills. There was no way her brother was in love with Azula. She refused to believe it.

“What did she do to you to make you believe that you're in love with her? _Spirits,_ Sokka... I know you're smarter than this! This is Azula we're talking about. She's a manipulative bitch. She messed with your head, got what she wanted, and then took off when it was convenient!”

Sokka stilled, his eyes flashing with that rage again. “That's not what happened, Katara. That's not even close.”

“Oh, really? Look at yourself! You're drunk! You're a mess! You're... I don't even know you anymore! My own brother! She did this to you!” she said through her teeth, tears in her eyes. “And you don't even see it!”

“I LOVE HER, KATARA!” Sokka burst out, stepping forward. He jabbed at his chest. “I love her! You don't know what it was like out there! What we did, what we went through! What we saw! And she... She's not the person she was, she's not anything like that. She's... You don't understand. You can't understand. This isn't her fault... You don't know... You don't know...”

“I know her. She hasn't changed one bit, Sokka. She's still destroying people because she can! Because that's all she knows how to do!”

“You're wrong!”

“She seduced you.”

“That's not true, not even a little bit.”

“You're not a cheater, Sokka. Dad didn't raise you that way, and I know you hate people who cheat, you've always said so. There's no way you did that without her manipulating you!”

“I'm not perfect, Katara. I did what I did, don't try to blame her.”

“It was her.”

“Don't blame her for my decisions!”

“Your mistakes!”

Sokka started to say something and then stretched his neck, making it pop. “It wasn't a mistake. Bad timing, but not a mistake.”

“Well, she certainly got what she wanted, didn't she? It was probably a pretty fun game for her, watching you turn your back on Suki. How long did it take? A few weeks, a month? I can't believe you fell for it!”

“That's not what happened!” Sokka burst out again, running his hand through his greasy hair.

“Did she tell you that she loved you?” Katara snorted derisively, arms crossed over her chest.

“Yes.”

“Then where is she, Sokka?” She spread her hands wide, encompassing the filthy room, and everything beyond it.

“Gone. Gone because...because I couldn't fix her... She's sick, Katara. She wants control, to be better, and...I don't know how to give her that. She left because it was the right thing to do. I'm not angry with her for that. I know why she left, and I understand, I just... I want her back. I can't sleep without her. And the things she's gone through... If _I'm_ this fucked up, then what is _she_ dealing with? I'm scared for her.”

“She has you so messed around, Sokka,” Katara said, walking slowly over to him. Sokka didn't flinch away, not even when she touched his arm. She noticed the faintest shadow of black ink on his skin, the faded remnants of the henna tattoos he'd worn undercover as a Smoke Demon. Another couple of weeks and they'd gone for good. “I wish that you were right, for your sake, but it's Azula. You can't trust her.”

“I trust her with my life, Katara. She saved my life so many times,” he said, and touched the white scar on his hairline. “If you knew, if you knew her the way I do, you wouldn't say these things.”

“I know her.”

“I know you hate her, you always have, but you hate someone who doesn't exist anymore.”

“Hate is a strong word,” she said with an edge in her voice.

“It's not wrong, though. Not in this case. I know you have your reasons. I know what she did to Aang, what she tried to do to you. What she did to Zuko, and Suki, and all of us. I get it. I never forgot it, not once. But she's not the person she was. I know you can't understand that. I didn't get it at first either, but then... Then she let me in. I got to know her.”

Katara sighed and then shook her head. “Sokka, I want to understand...”

“You can't,” he said bitterly, and stalked away from her. He put his hands flat on the hearth, bending over the fire. “She's gone, and I'm...”

“A mess.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm a mess. It's not her fault, whatever you think. She didn't do this to me. I was having problems before she left, I just wanted to ignore it. When she was here I could pretend I was okay because she needed me to be strong, but now she's gone and I'm... Katara, it's _them_. I can hear them in my head whenever I close my eyes. At first it wasn't so bad, I had her to worry about, and she helped... But even so, I had nightmares, and these stupid flashbacks... And I could smell... Smell burning things, things that weren't there, and then... Then the screams. They're always screaming, and I can't help them. I'm trying, and she's trying, and everything is on fire, and... It's not Azula. It's them. I can't live with it. _I can't._ ”

Her brother's voice broke again, and a great shudder left him. Katara forgot her anger at Azula, and went to him, gathering him in up in her arms. Sokka folded around her, his head on her shoulder.

“If I just knew _why,_ maybe I could live with it. I could find some peace, but the pieces don't fit. We never got answers, and I can't live with it.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Sokka was quiet for a long time, and then he started talking, telling her about a town called Rinchaka Falls, and the things he had seen there. His body shook, sweat rolling down his back and forehead as he spoke.

Katara felt tears in her eyes, but she held them back. She couldn't cry, not when Sokka needed her to be strong. She listened without interrupting, as Sokka pulled the story out of the aching heart of him.

“Afterwards...afterwards it was bad, but I thought I'd gotten over it, mostly. I thought I could live with it. I told Zuko the story, and it wasn't this bad, but now... Now it hurts so much, Katara. I don't know why, but I started reliving it. The past month... Dad thinks it's Azula, and that's part of it, but it's them. The children. I can't see past them, Katara. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I'm sick to my stomach, and I don't... I don't understand.”

“You went through something profoundly traumatic, Sokka. That's not something you get over in a day, or a month.”

“I know. Believe me, I know that,” he said heavily. “I'm lost.”

“Well, that's why I'm here, big brother. You don't have to do this alone.”

“You can't fix me,” Sokka said sadly. “I have some experience in this, you know. I couldn't fix Azula. And you can't fix me.”

Katara touched his worn face and let a determined little smile cross her lips. “We'll just see about that, big brother.”


	2. One

****_Eleven months later..._

 

“LION-TURTLE!” Suki barked, hands on hips, sweat running freely down her back.

Instantly there was a flash of sunlight on a half-dozen shields as the green- and gold-clad women before her sprang into action. They moved seamlessly as a unit, spinning together into a tight formation. Their shields lifted over their heads and dropped down in front to form a protective, shell-like barrier, each shield protecting themselves and their sister beside them.

And in the middle...

Suki heard a grumbling from the center of the formation and fought a smile as she paced in front of the Kyoshi Warriors in the hot, bright sunshine streaming through the windows of the dojo. She studied their positions, looking for weak points.

“Chao-Ahn, you need your shield higher. Kikki, you need to go lower, you've got your entire calf exposed. That's the first place any marksman worth his salt would aim for. Good, that's it. Hold the position.”

“For how long?” piped up a sullen, annoyed voice in the center of the formation.

Suki's eyebrow lifted at that. “For as long as I say.”

“It's hot in here. And Tam's butt is in my face.”

“Sorry!” Tam squeaked from somewhere near the center of the turtle shell-like formation.

“You could do worse than Tam's butt,” Suki said, grinning now despite everything. “You could get an arrow in the face instead, Zuko. This is for your protection, you know.”

“I can fight!” Zuko called, his voice muffled and tiny from within the protective swarm of women and shields. “This isn't necessary.”

“I'll decide what's necessary or not,” Suki said sharply and drew herself up, pushing her grin away again. “That's good, sisters. This is the perfect formation if you ever find yourselves in a hail of arrows, caught out in the open. This will protect not only yourselves, but the Fire Lord as well.”

“So long as he cooperates,” Ty Lee snorted from the back of the phalanx, dropping her shield to flash her thousand-candle smile in Suki's direction.

“If we're being attacked? Not bloody likely,” Zuko grumbled from the center.

Suki rolled her eyes and clasped her hands behind her back. It was hot and she was thirsty. She imagined it was even worse for the Kyoshi Warriors. She'd been putting them through their paces all afternoon, along with their unwilling Fire Lord.

“All right, back to parade rest,” she said, after appraising the formation for another minute or so. She liked what she saw. Shields dropped back to sides as the Warriors fanned out back into their original positions, backs straight, shoulders squared.

They were all sweating, just like she was, and she could see how tired they were. Ty Lee, she noticed, was breathing a little heavily, her shield arm shaking, though she was trying to hide it.

Suki's mouth flattened at that. Captain Ty Lee had taken months to recover from the arrow that had nearly killed her, but she wasn't as recovered as she pretended to be. She hadn't allowed it to affect her performance yet, but it was something Suki noticed.

It was her job to notice.

Any weakness could exploited by their enemies. And that weakness could get Ty Lee, one of the other Warriors, or Zuko killed one day. She trusted Ty Lee to know her limits though. She trusted all of them.

Suki studied the Warriors before her, ignoring Zuko, who was standing at attention beside Ty Lee. He looked as sweaty as the rest of them. His hair was pulled up into a messy topnotch, with stray strands straggling into his scarred face. Sweat drenched the front of his open vest, turning the plain red cotton a dark maroon color. There were high blooms of red in his cheeks, and his bare arms were shiny with sweat.

He met her gaze across the distance and for one moment Suki felt her stomach flutter with excitement. She locked it down the next second and looked away, pacing in front of the Kyoshi Warriors.

“You've all done excellent work today. We've run through every formation, every scenario I can think of. If the Fire Lord is attacked, I know that I can count on all of you to know instinctively how best to protect him in any given situation. But I don't just want it to be instinct. I want it to be reflex. I want it to be ingrained in your muscle memory. I don't want thought or doubt to get in the way of what you have to do. You need to be—”

“Cannon fodder,” Zuko said, shaking his head. “They're not robots, Seneschal. You can't expect them to act like machines.”

“With all due respect, Fire Lord Zuko, yes, I can,” Suki said, lifting her brow again. “This is their job, to protect you at all costs.”

“Not at the cost of their lives.”

“Yes, even at the cost of our lives,” Ty Lee snapped, rolling her eyes. “Zuko, how many times are we going to have this argument? This is our job. Every single one of us knows the risks of our duties. We accept those risks. So shut up and let us do our jobs.”

“Well said, Captain,” Suki said with a little smile.

“I know all of that, but I don't like it,” Zuko said stubbornly, and not for the first time. Certainly not for the last time, Suki knew.

“Don't you trust us, Zuko?” Qing piped up, turning to the Fire Lord with her pretty little face drawn up. Zuko looked stricken.

“Of course I do! After everything we've been through, I couldn't trust anyone more. It's not that. It's... I don't want any of you dying for me, okay? You're all my friends. Every single one of you. I care about you.”

“That's touching, Zuko,” Ty Lee said. “But you're being stupid again.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard her. Stop being stupid,” Suki said, even as Tam took up the thread, dropping out of her parade rest stance and turning to the Fire Lord, who was standing beside her.

“We need to do our jobs, Zuko. Every time you refuse to let us, it makes it more likely we _will_ be killed. We know you don't like it, and we're all of us touched at how you care, but you need to do as the Seneschal says. Let us protect you. Trust us not to fail you. If we fall, then we fall. But we won't.”

“We're just too damned good for that,” short little Kikki snorted, her smile smug and confident.

“I know...but...”

“But nothing, Zuko. You heard them. Let them do their jobs. You should only fight your enemies if you have no other choice. That's what this training is for. So you don't get in their way when it comes time to protect you.”

Zuko turned on Suki again. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Suki said with an edge to her voice. _Oh, here it comes..._ She knew where this was heading. They'd had this argument a lot lately.

“We're getting married, Suki. You think an assassin won't try to kill you too?”

“Of course I think that, it's my job to think that. As Seneschal--”

“But you won't _just_ be the Seneschal of my palace, Suki. You're going to be my wife. You're going to be the Fire Lady. That makes you a target. Maybe an even bigger target than me. If I'm going to train like this with the Warriors, and accept that they're going to be my shield, then you do, too.”

“He's right, Suki,” Ty Lee said, stepping forward. Her shield arm was still shaking slightly, but her breathing had evened out. A strand of her long brown hair was plastered to her sweaty forehead. “The moment you wed Zuko, you'll be a member of the Royal Family, and it will be our duty to protect you.”

“It's different--”

“It's not,” Zuko said sharply. “Suki, it's not different at all. If you're going to marry me, then you need to accept that my enemies will try and harm you just because of that.”

“I do accept that, Zuko. But you're the priority, not me.”

Zuko's head dropped and then he lifted it, meeting her eyes. “You are _my_ priority, Suki. So when we form this stupid ass Lion-Turtle, or I get thrown on the ground with four Warriors on top of me, or I get shoved into a closet, you will be beside me. You will get the same protection at all times.”

“I can protect myself—”

“So can Zuko, and we all know it. But as you said, he shouldn't have to. And neither should you. You're going to be the Fire Lady, Suki. That changes everything, whether you like it or not. That means you're our responsibility.”

“But--”

“No buts, Seneschal. This is the way it is,” Captain Ty Lee said, moving forward. “It's high time you accepted it.”

Suki looked at Zuko and then at the assembled Kyoshi Warriors before her. They were her friends, her sisters. And Zuko...

She met Zuko's gaze again, and saw soft triumph in his golden eyes. They'd been having this argument for the past several months, ever since she had hung up her fan and taken on the position of the Fire Lord's Seneschal. As Seneschal it was her duty to oversee the security on the entire palace complex, from the guardsmen to the Kyoshi Warriors.

Though she missed being a Warrior in full, she had taken to the job of Seneschal like she'd been born for it. It gave her greater control over Zuko's security, and it made it easier for her to monitor the people coming and going from the palace, allowing her to assess all threats, and to coordinate with the guardsmen and the Warriors at all times.

There had been no security breaches since she'd taken over the position. The palace had never been more secure. Even Zuko's councilors that had vocally opposed their engagement had admitted that she'd shored up a lot of weaknesses in the way the palace was guarded. With the threat of the Smoke Demons gone, the Fire Lord had never been safer.

The problem was...she wasn't just the Seneschal. She was Zuko's fiance. She would be Fire Lady soon, and that meant... Well, no one was sure. The Fire Lord had never married the head of his security before. No one knew what that meant.

There were some on the council, in particular, who had suggested (and not unforcefully) that Suki couldn't possibly be _both_ Seneschal and Fire Lady. It was improper, dangerous, and just not done. They thought that if she were to marry Zuko, that meant she had to be a pretty little brood mare providing heirs and presiding over state dinners. An ornament, not a trained Warrior.

She'd been fighting with Zuko about it, but not because Zuko agreed with his councilors. He wanted her to continue as Seneschal as much as she did. But he also thought she needed as much protection as he did, and she just couldn't bring herself to agree.

It felt wrong. She was the protector, not the protected. And these women were her friends, her sisters... She couldn't, wouldn't, let them lay down their lives for her. They had always been her responsibility. She couldn't accept things being the other way around.

“We've all discussed this, Suki. We know exactly what's bothering you,” Ty Lee said, glancing at the rest of the Warriors. “But the truth is, you need protecting. We know you don't need it when it comes down to an actual fight. You can take anyone, and we know it. Zuko knows it. You're the best warrior among us.”

“No, I'm not, Captain. You are.”

Ty Lee made a face. “I was, until I took that damned arrow in the chest. Now I'm slower than I was, and I get winded a lot more easily. My arm trembles if I hold it up too high and for too long. I know you've noticed. I know you all have.”

“You're compensating for it though, and I've watched you push through it. I know you won't fail, Captain. If I thought you would, I wouldn't trust you to protect Zuko. And I do.”

“If you trust me to protect Zuko, then you need to trust me to protect you as well. The thing is, we've all agreed, Seneschal. You will get the same treatment as Zuko. When we throw him to the ground or form the Lion-Turtle, you're ass is going to be right next to him. And fighting us, or him, on it is going to end in either you, or Zuko, or one of us getting hurt. So shut up, and let us protect you. We're going to do it anyway.”

Suki glanced at Zuko, and saw the little smirk on his mouth. “You talked to them, didn't you?”

“No, they talked to me. As it happens, I agree with them, baby. If you agree to cooperate, then I agree to the same thing. I won't fight the protections, the formations, the cut and run plans in case of assassination attempts. I'll stick to the plan. I'll let the Warriors protect me. But only if you do, too.”

Suki glared at him. “That's blackmail.”

Zuko shrugged. “I'll do anything to protect you. Even if it means I have to have Tam's butt in my face occasionally.”

“Hey! A lot of men have paid good money to see this ass up close,” Tam exclaimed. Laughter followed, cutting through the tension of the moment. Even Suki laughed, rubbing at her sweaty forehead. She shook her head and looked at her friends, at her Warriors, at the love of her life.

She sighed and accepted the inevitable. She'd been fighting this, but she could see the sense in it. This was exactly how Zuko felt, after all. And if she made him bend, then she had to compromise too.

“Fine. Fine, I'll go along with it. I don't like it, but I can see I'm outmatched.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ty Lee said with a grin, even as Zuko smiled at her in an apologetic way. “Now...let's practice that last formation again...with the both of you. LION-TURTLE!”

Suki moved into the formation beside Zuko, sighing as the Warriors surrounded them, raising shields on all sides, and above their heads. The sunlight filtered in through the smallest gaps as Suki found herself shoulder to shoulder with Zuko, crouched on the ground.

“HOLD!” Ty Lee called from somewhere above them.

She felt Zuko's hand in hers, squeezing.

“I'm sorry. It was the only way,” he said apologetically. “You're too stubborn for your own good. You don't need my protection, but I need to protect you. I just do. Please understand, baby.”

Suki sighed again. “I understand, Zuko. I really do. I feel the same way about you. I just don't like it.”

“I don't either,” he said wryly, gesturing to Tam's butt, which really was kind of amazing. Suki laughed and leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek. But Zuko turned his head, capturing her mouth with his own. All of her frustration and anger melted instantly.

She kissed him back, sinking into him as his hand slid into her sweaty hair. He didn't seem to care, his lips working against hers in that hot, sensual way of his. She never got tired of kissing him.

Suki smiled against his mouth. She was going to marry this man, stubborn ass that he was. Despite the opposition of his council, and no few of his nobles, who had made it known what they thought of her. Zuko didn't care what they thought, and neither did she. She loved him, and he loved her.

“Are you two making out back there?” Tam demanded after a long moment.

Without pulling away, Suki smacked her butt. Zuko laughed against her lips and then deepened the kiss.

Yep. She was going to marry him, and maybe being Fire Lady carried some not-so-great baggage with it, but it was worth it just to have him.

She wasn't going to lose him. Not over this. Not ever.

 

* * *

 

“The wedding is fast approaching,” the man said, rubbing at the neatly trimmed beard that framed his sullen mouth. The man's eyes were thunderous as he glanced at the much shorter man beside him.

“Our plans will be in place before the wedding. Never fear, my Lord.”

“You have the substance?”

“Twenty barrels.”

“Only twenty?”

The slight man's amusement was clear in the tilt of his ruby red lips. “Twenty is more than enough, my Lord. One barrel alone destroyed Rinchaka Falls.”

“Rinchaka Falls was a mistake. The Princess was nearly killed, and if she'd seen what was in that depot...”

“Mistakes were made, I admit it, but we lost nothing there, my Lord. Baz took the blame for the explosion, and the late Lady Shura had him killed. No one looked further into the incident. They had no idea what was in that depot, or what we hid. There was nothing left after the explosion. Not even ashes.”

“I will not tolerate another failure.”

“No, my Lord. No one suspects anything. There will be no more failures. Lady Shura's campaign against the Fire Lord served us well. We hid in plain sight, and now that the Smoke Demons have been routed and put to death, no one will be looking in our direction. They think they are safe. We owe Lady Shura a great debt. It is too bad the Fire Lord put her to the stake.”

“Lady Shura was a fool. I took great pleasure in watching her burn on that pyre. Her scheming got her and her sons killed. And when she wasn't content with that, she sent my son to his death as well.”

“My Lord, your son was a fool.”

The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Rian was a fool, yes. His obsession with the princess was his undoing, as I feared it would be. But he had his uses. And he was my only son, bastard though he was.”

“You still have a daughter. A fine daughter.”

His gaze was sharp on the slighter man. “Yes, a fine daughter, and not meant for you.”

“Of course not, my Lord. I would never presume. I am not worthy of such a splendid creature. She is pure?”

“Of course. The fire is strong in her. She is the hope of the Fire Nation. Our only hope, if we're to save it from the dirty blood of that Earth Kingdom commoner the Fire Lord thinks to marry.”

“This wedding will never happen. I will see to it.”

“I do not want to the Fire Lord harmed, you understand?”

“It is well understood, my Lord. And the Princess?”

“The Princess is mad. She killed my son. I want her head, and the head of her Water Tribe lover. She needs to die, you understand? If she were to whelp... An heir to the throne must be pure. The bloodline needs fire, not water, not earth. What we do, we do to protect the Nation. It is unpleasant, but it is necessary.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

“The agents are in place? They're being watched?”

“Yes. Our agents only await your signal.”

The man nodded and stared in the setting sun. “They will pay for what they did to my son, but not yet. And the barrels?”

“Planted like seeds, awaiting your harvest.”

“Good. If it becomes necessary...if we need to...”

“If the time comes, my Lord, we'll burn the Fire Nation to the ground, and rebuild a pure empire from the ashes.”

The man smiled. “May we rise like phoenixes.”


	3. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for frank discussions of rape and trauma.

****“Miss? MISS? We've been waiting for ten minutes.”

Azula started, whirling in the direction of the woman's voice behind her. The woman, a plump dumpling of a woman with too much rouge on, sat amid a cacophony of similarly made up and dressed ladies of middling years, all of them glowering at her like she'd tracked animal dung into the tea shop on her shoes.

She knew this gaggle of cackling old hens well. They came into the Jasmine Dragon three or four times a week. They knew her name, too, but they always called her Miss, and they were always rude.

Azula smeared as polite a smile as she could manage onto her face and wheeled her cart of tea cakes forward.

“What do you want?” she snapped before she could stop herself. She flinched inwardly immediately as the woman's over-plucked eyebrows shot skyward. “I meant, what may I get for you, ladies? We have a lovely green tea today, if you'd like to try something new?”

She knew they wouldn't; they always ordered the same thing every time.

“A pot of black, Miss. Sugar. And honeycakes for each of us. Fresh ones, _not_ the ones from the cart. And try to hurry, would you? We have a full afternoon and we've waited long enough already,” the plump woman said in her snide tone. Azula nearly mouthed the order with her, but refrained. Iroh was always getting on her about being polite to the customers, no matter how rude they were. She tried, but...

Well. Some days were easier than others.

“I'll bring it out right away,” Azula said and wheeled the cart through the full tables bristling with customers and back into the kitchen. The honeycakes on the cart were fresh out of the oven and still steaming. The old biddies just like to make work for her. The moment she was in the kitchen, she mumbled, “Just as fast as I can, you old bitch.”

At her entrance, Iroh half-turned away from his position near the worktable, brows rising. She knew he hadn't heard her, but he could always tell when it was a Bad Day by the look on her face. She tried to school her features into something neutral.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine,” she said dismissively. “A pot of black, six cups, sugar, and six honeycakes fresh out of the oven.” Iroh turned away from the oven, his hands covered in flour. A grin split his mouth.

“Madam Miyura is back, I take it.”

“Her and her entourage of rude old biddies,” Azula said, grabbing a tray and laying out a tin of black tea leaves, six cups, a sugar bowl with a fresh spoon, and six plates, while Iroh poured boiling water into a porcelain teapot and brought it over. He laid the pot on the tray and then turned to the oven. “I think she's got a crush on you.”

“I am quite handsome, I do not blame her!” Iroh said cheerfully, bending and pulling a fresh tray of steaming hot honeycakes out of the oven. He plated the cakes and then drizzled honey and powdered sugar all over them, while Azula rolled her eyes.

“You're a terrible flirt, Uncle.

“Terrible? I assure you, I am quite good at it,” Iroh beamed, and placed the honeycakes on the tray.

“Well, you can do better than that old witch,” Azula sighed and stared at the steam rising from the hot buns, watching the honey melt into the warm sweetbread.

“Azula?”

She started again and lifted her head. “I'm fine.”

The answer to the concern in his voice was automatic, and they both knew it. One of the best things about her Uncle Iroh was that he didn't pry, even when he was concerned about her. He trusted her to talk to him if there was something really bothering her, but mostly he gave her space.

For all that, the past year hadn't been easy for either one of them, and she knew that she was mostly to blame for that. Iroh wasn't the one who had screaming nightmares, after all. He wasn't the one who still had completely blindsiding panic attacks in the middle of a lunch service. He wasn't the one who had taken months to adjust to the medications Dr. Song had put her on.

But for all that, her Uncle had been patient with her. He hadn't coddled her, but he hadn't ignored her either. He'd given her space, and understanding, and most of all, patience.

For her part, she had tried to reach out to him. She thought she had, as much as she was able, but it wasn't easy for her.

Other than Dr. Song, the only person she'd ever truly opened up to was...

But she didn't want to think about him. Everything was so much easier if she didn't think about him.

Even if she dreamed about him all of the time. But she had no control over her dreams. She never had.

“Are you sure?” Iroh said softly. “Do you need a break?”

She forced a tight-lipped smile. “No, I'm fine.”

Iroh didn't look like he believed her, but he also didn't pry. Azula scooped up the tray and walked backward through the swinging kitchen door into the busy tea shop once more. It was like getting hit with a wall of sound and stimulation, coming at her from all sides. Her nerves jangled, but she pushed back the jittery sensation in her stomach as best she could, marching through the tables toward Madam Miyura's table full of old biddies.

“Well, that took longer than I thought,” the old woman sniped at her as she set out plates and cakes, and then prepared the tea at the table.

“I had to wait for the cakes. They are fresh out of the oven,” Azula said in her most Be Polite to the Customers voice. _Go ahead. Take a hot bite and burn that fat tongue of yours off, why don't you?_

“Would you give Iroh my compliments? Tell him I'm not angry that the service has been so slow lately,” Miyura tittered, glancing back at the kitchen door as if Iroh might appear and start singing her love songs or something. Azula fought an eye roll, pouring the tea with a hand that shook a little.

“I have other things to do than flirt with my uncle for some cheap old woman,” she said before she could school her mouth.

Miyura gasped a little. “WELL! I never! You're a very rude young woman!”

“So I've been told,” Azula said finishing up and moving on to the next table. She immediately felt guilty. She tried her best to be polite to the customers, but sometimes...

Well, it wasn't like she was going to win awards for her customer service, and Iroh knew that. So long as she didn't set anyone on fire, she had a feeling her uncle wouldn't make too big a deal of her taking her nerves out on the ruder customers. She was only human.

But her nerves didn't settle after moving on from Madam Miyura's clucking gaggle of hags. She served other tables as best she could, all while her hands shook and the noise started pounding in through her skull. She bussed a table and came back into the kitchen, tipping the dirty dishes into the hot, soapy dishwater. Iroh's kitchen boy, a scrawny kid of fourteen named Xu, moved up to wash them, and accidentally brushed against her arm as he did so.

Azula jerked back, her heart hammering, her eyes squeezing shut. The world tilted a little and she felt bile in the back of her throat.

A warm, callused hand smelling of flour and yeast touched her shoulder after a long moment. She opened her eyes and her Uncle's concerned face swam before her. Iroh pressed a steaming cup of tea into her hands, and a warm cake.

“Come back when you're ready,” he said, gently but firmly, and nodded toward the door to the kitchen yard.

“Uncle--”

“Don't argue. Go.”

Azula hesitated, but then nodded. The other server, a middle-aged woman named Yara, would cover for her, she knew. If she didn't take a break now, she was apt to lose it in the middle of the tea shop. That had happened once or twice, and she didn't want to repeat it. Neither did her uncle.

The kitchen yard was quiet, with warm sunlight streaming down through the leaves of the peach tree growing in the center of it. There was a stone bench beneath the tree and she sat on it, taking a deep, steadying breath.

She sipped her tea and nibbled on her cake, and let her mind wander for a few minutes. She toed the grass with the tip of her soft golden slipper as the sun warmed her shoulders. She counted to one hundred, and thought of rainbows and clouds and waves against sand, all the things Dr. Song had taught her as calming techniques for when she felt overwhelmed and overstimulated.

It usually helped. Sometimes it didn't, though. Sometimes...

Azula sighed and finished her tea. A bird landed at her feet, a little blue thing with black inquisitive eyes like oil drops. The bird cocked its head at her, and hopped forward. Azula pinched off a piece of her cake and tossed it down.

The bird hopped forward and pecked at the cake, swallowed, and looked up at her expectantly.

“Greedy,” she said, pinching off another piece. The bird hopped forward again and pecked at it. A smile turned Azula's lips as she broke the rest of the cake up into small pieces and scattered them in front of her on the grass. She watched the little bluebird hop here and there, picking all of the crumbs up with a dainty, pointed black beak.

Watching the bird calmed her, and banished the last of the jittery feelings from her body. She breathed softly, the smell of honey and baked breads and ripening peaches wreathing around her.

It was peaceful here. She had every reason to be happy here.

Iroh had welcomed her into his home with open arms. He had been patient with her, more patient than he had any right to be. He had treated her kindly, given her a room, a home, work. He had taken her to Dr. Song. And when she had insisted that she repay him for his kindness by working in the tea shop, even though they both knew that she was terrible at the job, he hadn't fired her.

She owed him so much. She _should_ be happy here.

But she wasn't.

Azula watched the bird as it pecked at the last of the cake. When it cocked its head out at her again, she shrugged. “All gone.”

The bird flew off toward the peach tree and out of sight, leaving her staring at the empty kitchen yard, feeling miserable and alone.

The ache in her middle, which never went away, no matter what she did, seemed to throb and grow as she stared at the grasses and flowers waving in the breeze, the shadows of the leaves on the peach tree dappling everything in shades of green. She closed her eyes and imagined herself somewhere else.

Wrapped in warm arms, a soothing voice rumbling through her, the scent of leather and fur and ice, and blue eyes... The bluest eyes she had ever seen. So blue she could drown in them.

She tried to push the memories and the painful, longing ache away, but it never worked. He was always there with her, like some ghost or phantom haunting everything she did. She'd thought the feelings might fade with time, but they hadn't.

There was a soft flutter on her left and she opened her eyes, turning to see that the little bluebird had landed on the bench beside her. It cocked its head at her again, and hopped forward. Azula stayed still, watching as it slowly approached her. It bobbed its head a few times, and that's when she noticed that it had something in its beak.

She watched as the bird gently placed a small blue rock down on the bench beside her. It's oil drop eyes blinked at her.

Then it backed up, twittered melodically at her, and fluttered away into the branches of the peach tree. Azula stared at the rock for a moment, and then reached out and took it in her fingers. It was smooth and shiny, shot through with veins of light gray and dark blue. She rolled it in her fingers, and felt a tear cascade hotly down her cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and tucked the stone into her palm. She wiped away the tear, braced herself, and then went back into the tea shop.

 

* * *

 

“I feel so alone, sometimes. Even here,” the man mumbled miserably, leaning forward, hunching down as he swirled a cup of tea in his fingers. “It feels wrong, sitting here with all of you. Like I'm an imposter.”

“Why do you feel that way?” Dr. Song asked gently, one hand clasped on her knee as she studied the man before her with kind green eyes. “We're all your friends here, Sihna. We've all been where you are.”

“You're not alone, Sihna,” shy Pia spoke up on Sihna's other side. Sihna looked up and nodded, then looked down again as if he couldn't bear the weight of their eyes on him. The weedy young man's hang-dog expression grew more miserable as he closed his eyes. He took a trembling breath.

“Because I was supposed to want it,” he said, his voice cracking. “I'm a man. We're supposed to want it.”

“And who says that?” Dr. Song prompted.

Sihna shrugged, still staring into his tea. “I don't know. People. When I told my friends, they... They laughed and said I was lucky. They congratulated me on getting laid. I wasn't supposed to complain. I was supposed to be happy. And it's different... I... I was aroused, or she never would have...”

He gulped down air and wiped at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Just because you were aroused doesn't mean you wanted it, Sihna. Our body's reaction to stimulation is beyond our control. What matters is how you felt during the assault, and you did not want it to happen. You told her no. Never doubt that.”

“I know. I know, you've said that, but... I sit here with you all, and I listen to your stories and I feel like... I feel weak, complaining about something everyone tells me I should have wanted. She was pretty. I should have liked her. I should have wanted to have sex with her. There's something wrong with me.”

“You were raped, Sihna,” angry-eyed Wing said sharply, sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed over her scrawny chest. The teenager's mouth twisted as her foot tapped on the floor impatiently. She did everything impatiently. “Fuck everyone who says differently. And those friends of yours? They're not your friends. They're morons. Men can be raped. Anyone can be raped.”

“As blunt as Wing can be, she's right, Sihna,” said Ylnna, a plump woman with a heart-wrenching scar across her face that reminded Azula of her brother. Ylnna's scar wasn't caused by Firebending, however. Her abusive, drunken husband had put a hot iron against her face one night. Her husband was rotting in jail now, but the scars of his abuse went deeper than the triangular-shaped burn on her face.

“I know. You tell me every week...” Sihna said, scrubbing at his eyes again. “But I can't help but doubt everything I feel. Maybe things would be easier if I could just convince myself it was sex, that I wanted it.”

“It would be a lie,” Dr. Song said gently. There was something about her voice that was melodic and soothing. With her plump face and iron-gray hair pulled back into a simple bun, she looked soft and grandmotherly. Like the exact sort of person you'd pour your heart out to.

It was her appearance and her calming manner, as much as her experience and patience, that had allowed the doctor to break through so many people's carefully built walls. Including Azula's.

“Yeah, yeah...maybe...” Sihna said, looking up. “And I lied about it long enough to know it wouldn't work anyway.”

Azula shifted uncomfortably in her seat at that. Dr. Song noticed the movement and pounced on it immediately, just as Azula had been afraid she would.

“Azula? What do you think? You haven't spoken yet,” the doctor asked her, as the people in the circle turned to look at her. Azula felt the weight of their eyes, and a hot prickle of panic started down her spine. She pushed it away, rolling the little blue stone in her fingers over and over again.

“I don't want to share today.”

Dr. Song's disappointment was evident in her eyes, but she nodded, and moved on. Azula sat silently, listening to the others tell their stories, sharing what they felt, and how they were coping. The discussion moved on, and when shy little Pia—birdlike and delicate-looking—spoke up, Azula felt her throat closing.

“I just feel like I'm supposed to be stronger now. The worst has happened to me. I should find strength in moving on, shouldn't I? That's what I don't get. I don't know when I'm supposed to feel strong.”

“Being raped doesn't make you strong,” Azula said, her voice trembling. Dr. Song stilled, watching her with those disarmingly kind and understanding eyes focused indirectly on her. Azula nearly clammed up again, but the words poured out of her, and she couldn't stop them. “It didn't make me strong. It tore me down. It ripped me apart. I didn't even feel like a real person anymore. I didn't find strength in it. It _broke me.”_

Azula rolled the stone over in her fingers and stared at each of them in turn. Angry Wing, hunched Sihna, burned Ylnna, shy Pia, and Dr. Song, who was watching her with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Pia, I hear people say that suffering makes us stronger, that we can choose to learn some stupid lesson from what's been done to us, but I think that's bullshit. All I learned was how to be afraid. I learned how to push people away. I learned how to hate myself for having feelings for another person. I couldn't even admit I loved him, because I didn't think he could love someone like me. It fucked me up so much I started hurting myself. I thought I deserved to hurt, because those men raped me. Strong? I've never felt more weak.”

“But you're here, now. That takes strength, Azula,” Yllna said gently. “Just talking about it...”

“But I _don't_ talk about it,” Azula interjected. “I come here every week and I sit and I listen, but I can't talk about it.”

“If you talk about it, then it's real,” Wing said, staring at the floor and then looking up. Azula met her gaze for a moment, before looking away. She rolled the stone in her fingers.

“It's always been real to me. Even when I tried lying to myself, it still came back. In my dreams, in my waking nightmares. I was never free of it. Every single day it broke me down, until I felt like I was nothing. I lost who I was.”

The room was quiet for a moment, then Sihna spoke up, “Who were you?”

Azula laughed and put her hand over her mouth. “Before? No one you wanted to know.”

“And now?”

“I don't know,” Azula shrugged. “I'm trying to be someone, but I don't know who she is. I hope she's a good person. But whoever she is, she was still the girl that was raped. I don't find meaning in my suffering. I didn't learn a lesson. I didn't find out who I am, or find that strength in myself. Pia, maybe you will... I hope you do.”

“I hope you do too, Azula,” Pia whispered. “Even if you don't believe it.”

Azula rolled the stone over and over in her fingers, and looked up at Dr. Song, who nodded at her, pulling a soft, thin-mouthed smile of approval.

When the meeting ended, Azula made for the door, but Dr. Song called her name. She held back, as everyone walked out of the room. Dr. Song started stacking the chairs up, and wordlessly, Azula went to help her.

“It was good to see you sharing with the group today, Azula,” Dr. Song said as she stacked up chairs and brought them to the corner.

Azula shrugged, putting her chairs on top of the doctor's stack. “Well, you keep telling me I need to open up. Guess I had a lot to say.”

“I know. And you do well in our private sessions. It took some time, but you know how to open up. You just have to choose to let others in. I'm proud of you.”

Azula shifted uncomfortably in place. It had taken months to unravel for the doctor, but she finally had. She hadn't even told Sokka all of the things she had told the doctor. For some reason, that thought made her sad. She had held herself back from him, so much, pushing him away...

She swallowed and put her hand in her pocket, feeling the blue stone there. For some reason, the feel of the smooth rock soothed her. It made her think of the bluebird, the warm sunlight in the kitchen yard, and the smell of baking breads. But most of all, and most inexplicably, it made her think of Sokka.

“Thank you, I guess.”

“How are you?”

Azula knew what that meant. She took a deep breath and glanced at the door, but Wing had closed it behind her when she'd left. It was just the two of them.

“I nearly had a panic attack this afternoon, but I managed to head it off. I haven't had an attack in nearly a month.”

“Good. And you're taking your medications?”

“Yes, every day,” Azula said, nodding.

“And have you had any more hallucinations? No manic episodes?”

“No,” Azula said, relieved. It had taken a few months for Dr. Song to diagnose what was wrong with her, and to find a medication and dosage that would help Azula gain some control over her mental illness. Azula had never known what was wrong with her. She'd had no name for it, no idea how to control it. But Dr. Song had.

_Schizoaffective disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety attacks, and a tendency to self-harm._

She liked to repeat her diagnosis sometimes, to remind herself that it was real, that what was wrong with her had names and treatments. That she wasn't lost or broken. That...maybe she wouldn't ever be cured, but she could be stable. She could live as normal a life as she could.

Already she had seen a change, since the medication had started working. She no longer saw things that weren't there, or heard whispers. Her mood swings had stabilized. She was... Not better, not completely, but she felt like she had a handle on things. She felt like a real person.

That was what she wanted, most of all. She wanted to plant her feet and find herself somewhere in the chaotic swirl her life had become since her breakdown at age fourteen. She wanted to be Azula, whoever Azula was.

That was why she took her medications. It was why she talked to Dr. Song three days a week, and why she had finally agreed to come to the group therapy the doctor had put together. Song had told her that she would only get out of therapy what she put in, and Azula knew she was right.

She wanted to find her peace, somehow. Even if she never got it, she was willing to work for it.

“Good, that's good. How are you feeling after sharing today? I know that wasn't easy for you.”

Azula rolled the stone in her fingers. “I shouldn't have said that to Pia.”

“Why not? This group is about discussing how we feel, as honestly as possible. You were honest.”

“Pia needs to believe she'll find strength in what she went through. She clings to that, who am I to tell her it's bullshit? We all have something we need to hold on to.”

Dr. Song nodded, but looked thoughtful. “Pia is stronger than she thinks she is, and not because of what she went through. For what it's worth, I think the same of you, Azula. You say you don't feel strong, but what is strength, exactly? What does it mean to you personally? It might be completely different for Pia.”

Azula chewed on her lip for a moment. “I don't know what it means.”

“Then tell me this: if Pia clings to the belief that she'll find strength in her suffering...what is that you cling to, Azula?”

Azula's eyes flickered a little and she looked away.

Dr. Song touched her hand briefly, squeezing it. “Think about that for our next session.”

Azula left, walking out of the doctor's office building and into the streets of Ba Sing Se. The hospital complex was massive, situated on a sprawling campus beside Ba Sing Se University. The night air was warm and full of laughter as college students wandered the shady streets around her. She felt very alone as she walked beneath the trees.

What did she cling to? What was she hoping to find? Herself? Peace? Forgiveness? Love?

Azula rolled the stone in her fingers, around and around and around, but no answers came to her.

 _Maybe,_ she thought sadly, _maybe I want it all?_


	4. Three

****The taste of blood spread in his mouth with a salty tang and a blinding explosion of pain. His head reeled back, his vision swimming with little bursts of light. He staggered backward, shaking his head to clear his vision, blood dripping from his bottom lip.

His opponent took his momentary dizziness to throw another solid punch to his chin. He avoided it this time, raising his wrapped, taped fists to ward off the blow. His reflexes were too slow to stop the force of the punch though, and he was knocked back yet another step.

The sparks on his vision faded out like fog in the sunlight, and he blew out a breath, licking the blood from his lip.

“That all you got?” he said in a punchy voice, breathing hard as sweat dripped into his eyes and rolled down his bare chest.

His opponent didn't reply, not that he'd expected him to. Bohai did most of his talking with his fists. And his fists had a lot to say.

Bohai scowled beneath the dark bramble of his beard, his hawkish green eyes narrowed beneath a beetled brow. The man was a good two feet taller than he was, brawny and hirsute. There was a reason they called him Bohai the Bear.

And there was a reason he was undefeated in the ring.

Shouts came from the smoky stands around the ring, most of them directed at him. They screeched and threw taunts, their laughter hawkish and grinding. He pushed the sounds away, focusing on the Bear with eyes that weren't exactly tracking anymore.

He waited, dancing from foot to foot across the makeshift ring, beneath the burning oil lamp that illuminated it. People called out bets, jeered his name and seethed on all sides of the ring, waiting for the knockout blow to come.

The Bear was known for his knockout blows. His last ten bouts had ended with his opponents being carted off on stretchers, insensible and bleeding. One man had had a crushed clavicle. Another, a concussion.

He had no plans on going out like those other men.

His eyes narrowed on the Bear, looking for weaknesses, waiting, watching... The Bear lumbered forward, his massive, scarred fists lifting. He danced away from the Bear, keeping his distance, trying to find something, anything...

He found it when the Bear swung at him, even though he was too far away to hit. He danced out of the way of the blow, feeling the air whistle past his face as he did. The Bear growled something unintelligible and swung again, but came no closer to hitting him.

A smile curled his bloody lips.

_You're favoring that left knee, aren't you?_

He danced away again, testing his theory. When the Bear lumbered at him, he saw the way he put down his left foot, with his heel barely touching. There was a limp there, maybe an old injury from another fight, maybe a pulled muscle.

It didn't matter. It was a weakness, and he meant to exploit it.

He let the Bear close on him again, the jeering and cheering growing louder, hands slapping the edges of the shoddily built ring on all sides. The Bear swung once more, but he ducked, swinging to the left and getting in a jab at the Bear's ribs. The blow didn't do much damage, but he managed to get behind the Bear as he clumsily tried to get his meaty body around.

His foot snapped out, hitting the Bear's left knee like a battering ram. The Bear cried out. He felt something crunch beneath his foot as he danced back out of reach again, just to see the Bear lumber at him, falter, and then sink to one knee, his face a mask of agony beneath his bramble of beard.

He didn't give the big man a chance to recover, spinning into a kick that snapped the Bear's head back. Blood burst from his broken nose and he slumped with a final, anti-climactic thud.

The jeering stopped for a moment as the crowd realized that their undefeated champion had just been knocked out. Then they went right back to screaming, pounding the ring, cursing him, or shouting his name.

The ringmaster, a greasy little man named Po, came sliding into the ring like a slug. He cupped the Bear's face, smacked it a few times and then took the man's pulse. A grim little smile twisted his rubbery lips as he looked up and nodded, then gestured for the healer waiting ringside.

Po stood and grabbed his hand, lifting it into the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We have a winner! By total knock out! THHEEEEEE BOOMERANG!”

The crowed cheered him as the healer and some helpers loaded the Bear onto a board and carried him off. The Bear was already stirring, looking punchy, his nose already turning black.

“My money,” he said to Po, snatching his hand away and tearing his eyes away from the Bear as they carried him out.

“Of course,” Po said slickly, reaching into the front of his grease-stained green vest. He pulled out a stack of Yuans bound tightly with a leather cord. “Five hundred Yuans, pretty boy.”

“The prize for knocking out that bear in people clothes was for a thousand,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ring. “I may be pretty, but I'm not stupid.”

“You know, you got a lot of nerve, kid,” Po said, sniffing. Then he peeled off another stack of bills and shoved them at him. “Not a lot of sense, but a lot of nerve. I could use a man like you to fight regular for me.”

“Not interested,” he said, folding up the wad of money and vaulting over the ropes in one smooth jump. He landed with bent knees on the other side, straightened and started toward the exit. He didn't make it five feet when the doors burst open with a heavy bang. A group of black-clad men and women came pouring into the room.

“REPUBLIC CITY POLICE! THIS IS AN ILLEGAL FIGHT CLUB! YOU'RE ALL UNDER ARREST!”

“Shit!” he spat, shoving the money into his waistband and ducking back in the other direction. People were shouting, trying to find an exit as the police poured into the room. Metal zipped past his ear and caught hold of a man trying to climb over the rickety wooden seats, binding him and yanking him backward with a scream.

A woman in heels screamed to see him fly past her, and was knocked off of her feet by a chain around her ankle. She went zipped backward down the aisle and into the hands of one of the cops.

Another metal chain whipped past his face, but he ducked, rolling into a crouch. He had to get out of there. He couldn't be caught. There would be questions...

A lot of questions...

“HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!”

“You ain't takin' me, you pigs!” someone shouted, and bright flame bloomed up with a flash, blasting straight at one of the police officers. Something metal flashed between the officer and the flames, rising into the air like a shield. The Firebender put on more heat, bending a torrent of fire at the shield, but it remained steady and then started advancing forward.

The Firebender snarled, dug in his feet, but was no match for the wielder of the metal shield. The red-hot metal slammed into the Firebender and knocked him backward into a tangle of chairs. The metal shield cooled instantly, bent and then reformed into a rough pair of metal gloves that encased the Firebender's hands with a clang. Another strip slapped over his mouth.

“Get that one into the wagon!” a familiar voice said, her bare feet scuffing on the floor as she walked forward out of the shadows, her left hand rising, even as the Firebender was yanked off of his feet by the metal gloves on his hands. He hovered two feet off of the ground, his eyes rolling in his sockets.

_Shit. Not her...anyone but her..._

“Yes, Chief Beifong,” one of the officers said, taking control of the prisoner. The Chief of the police scowled and cocked her head to the side. Her blind eyes turned in his direction.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck..._

He sidled along the front of the ring, as people shoved and jostled at him, trying to get away from the police officers spreading out in every direction.

“You! Lay down on your stomach and put your hands on your head! NOW! You're under arrest!”

Sokka glanced at the officer who had noticed him, groaning inwardly.

_Well. This is going to fucking suck._

He pretended not to hear, sidling back along the ring again, trying to make for the door they'd carried the Bear through. There was another exit by the back door, and already the people closest to the back door had escaped through it. If he could just...

“HALT, I SAID!”

Metal chains clanked in his direction, but he dived forward, rolling into a crouching run. The metal pinged on the hard stone floor with a flash of sparks. As he hit his feet, another chain caught his wrist, wrapping around it with a jolt that tossed him against the ring.

He cursed and whipped around, grabbing the chain and yanking the metalbender toward him. The cop dug his heels in, attempting to reel him in. Inch by inch, they fought each other. A fresh wave of sweat broke out over his chest and forehead as he strained, his wrist aching, fingers going numb. The chain bit into him.

“You're...under...arrest...” the cop huffed, but he gritted his teeth.

“Not today,” he said and spun into the cop's insistent pull. The move was dangerous, showy, but stupid in most fights. He normally would never have used it, but the metalbender's concentration was on the chain. He had left himself open.

The spinning kick was nearly horizontal, a flurry of limbs and feet. His foot connected with the metalbender's face, much the same way it had the Bear's, only at an angle that took off some of the force of the blow. The metalbender cried out, falling back with a zip of the chain, his control on the metal momentarily loosening.

That was all the opening he needed. He slipped the chain and charged back toward the back exit.

He didn't make it.

 

* * *

 

It was near dawn when he was shoved into a metal chair in a little room that could best be described as depressing. Everything was metal or wood, from the floor to the ceiling. What little light there was came from a single shuttered lantern in the ceiling that gave off a sullen red glow. The table before him was metal and dented. He didn't appreciate the way the manacles on his hands lifted and connected to the metal table the moment he was seated.

He glanced over his shoulder at the two officers who had brought him in from the holding cells.

“Thanks, boys. You're doing a swell job,” he cracked.

“Shut it,” one of the officers snapped, slapping him on the back of the head. He was pretty sure that the officer was the same one had grappled with him; the bruise on his face was already a nasty black.

“Police brutality,” he mumbled as he leaning back in the chair, his leg bouncing as he lifted his eyes to the woman seated before him on the other side of the table.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Tran. Leave us,” she said, jerking her head toward the exit. The two officers grumbled and walked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind them. When they were gone she calmly clasped her hands on the table in front of her, her pale green eyes focused somewhere on the table between them. “Someone said you were the winner of the fight last night.”

“I was.”

“And you're aware that underground fight clubs are illegal in Republic City?”

“Some asshole made that law, if I recall. You could say I'm aware.”

“They said you went by the name 'the Boomerang.' Clever.”

“They give you any other name?”

“No. But I don't need one, do I?” she said softly, and lifted her face into the sullen red light. He could see the anger in her face, the barely checked rage.

Even though she couldn't see him, he felt the weight of her eyes on him, and looked down at his bruised and scabbed knuckles. Weeks of bare-knuckle fighting in the dirty underbelly of Republic City had left his hands a mess. He had been prowling the streets, from the illegal fight clubs, to back alley brawls, and in dive bars where the beer was cheap, and the faintest haze of opium rose from the basements dens beneath his feet.

He pulled a grimace, the dried blood on his lips cracking. His left eye was bruising. His bare chest was a mess of old bruises and knife fight scars. He tapped his finger on the metal table, waiting for her to say something, because he couldn't.

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Sokka?” Toph said softly, though he could still feel the heat of her anger. It wasn't just anger she was feeling though. He looked up at his best friend.

“I can't tell you that, Toph,” he said, tapping on the table. “I want to, but I can't.”

“That's not good enough, Sokka. Why the hell were you there last night? My men told me you're covered in stitches and bruises. What happened? Is this why you and Katara aren't speaking anymore?”

“Katara has nothing to do with this,” he said quickly. “I told you, I can't explain.”

“Why not?”

“Because you're the chief of police, that's why.”

“I'm also your best friend.”

“All the more reason to keep you out of this.”

“If you think for one second I won't throw your ass into a holding cell until I get answers—”

“I want answers too, Toph. That's what I'm doing. Looking for answers. I'm close. I _know_ I'm close,” he said with heat in his voice. Toph went still, her head cocking.

“Is this about the Smoke Demons?”

“What makes you think that? They're gone. Arrested, scattered, or dead.”

“Yeah, that's what Zuko and Aang would like to think, but you and I are a lot smarter than that. Or maybe I am. The evidence that you're an idiot is starting to really pile up,” Toph said, crossing her arms over her chest. She scowled at him through the curtain of her dark bangs. “There's no way they caught them all. Did you find a lead? Is that what this is about? Are you after someone?”

“I can't answer that, Toph.”

“You _will_ answer me.”

He sat back in the chair again. “I need a lawyer.”

Toph laughed a little, an annoyed look on her face. “You don't need a damned lawyer. You need to get your head out of your ass. You were a city councilman, Sokka... If it gets out that you were at an illegal fight club, this could ruin you!”

“You think I give a shit? I'm not on the council anymore, Toph. I don't care—”

“Then what about Katara? What about Aang? How is it going to look if the Avatar's brother-in-law were caught doing something illegal? There's going to be reporters all over this story. If they find out you were there, that you were fighting... Aang doesn't need that, and neither does your sister! She's worried to death about you, you know. You won't talk to her—”

“It's for her own good.”

“That's bullshit, Sokka! I know what you're going through, what with everything that happened to you in the Fire Nation. I know that was hard. I know you've been struggling. But you're driving everyone who loves you away. And you're _obsessed_ with the Smoke Demons.”

“You said it yourself, they're not gone, not all of them, Toph. I can't just let it go!” he barked, clenching his fists on the table as he leaned forward. “I need answers! I need someone to pay for what happened in Rinchaka Falls!”

“What if there _aren't_ any answers, Sokka? Did you ever think of that? What if the only answer is that that crazy Firebender just blew up the goddamned town for kicks, just like he'd set fire to other places, other towns? You said so yourself. That was how he got his kicks. People died, and it was a tragedy, but you're seeing shadows where are none.”

“I know what I know,” he said through his teeth. “There's more to this than that. I know it, Toph.”

She sighed. “Maybe there are Smoke Demons out there haven't been caught, but the people who pointed the Fire Bug at Rinchaka Falls are dead. They're _dead,_ Sokka.”

“Lady Shura and her sons are dead, yeah. But I saw the Fire Bug after the explosion at that depot. I saw him. He had no idea what would happen. He had no idea what was in that depot. The man who should have known, the one who sent us to the village, was an agent named Baz. Why did he send us there? What was in that depot? I have no idea. It haunts me. I need to know!”

Toph rubbed at her lower lip with her thumb.

“Was this Baz arrested?”

“No. Lady Shura used Mai to kill him. Shura knew Mai was a double agent the whole time, remember? Anyone Shura had no more use for, she'd drop in Mai's lap. Mai thought she was taking out the Smoke Demons, but she was being used as an unwitting assassin. She killed Baz for what happened in Rinchaka Falls, but it was Shura's idea.”

“I don't imagine that sits well with Mai.”

Sokka laughed a little, thinking of the last time he'd seen Mai. “No, it doesn't.”

“That leaves you with a lot of unanswered questions.”

“And blood on my hands. And nightmares I can't shake. I have a lead, Toph. I have a small lead, someone who might know something about Rinchaka Falls. What I'm doing... I need to keep doing it, or I'll never get close to him. I may never get answers.”

“Then let me help! I have the whole police force, detectives...”

“I can't get you involved in this, Toph. I'm sorry, but I can't. If I thought you could have helped me, I would have come to you before this, you know that. If this guy smells cops, I'll lose him.”

“But you shouldn't do this alone.”

“I'm not alone.”

Her eyebrow lifted in question. “Who are you working with?”

“I can't tell you that. I wish I could, but I can't. Toph, please...”

Toph blew out a breath and rolled her neck, making it pop.

“You need me to drop all charges, and let you go.”

“It would be helpful.”

“I ought to throw your ass in a cell until you get some damned sense,” Toph said, shaking her head. “You're going to get yourself killed.”

“That's not the plan.”

“It never is,” Toph said darkly, and then shook her head. “Okay...I'll drop the charges—”

“—thank you—“

“—IF you go see your sister,” Toph finished, lifting her dark brows. Sokka groaned and wiped his hand down his bruised face.

“She won't want to see me. Not after the last time.”

“You're both stubborn asses, but trust me... Katara wants nothing but the best for you. She's worried sick about you. We all are. You haven't been the same since... Since _her._ ”

Sokka stilled, his bruised and bloody hands clenching on the table, his chains clanking. “This isn't about her.”

“ _Please._ Everything you do is about her,” Toph snorted and whipped her hand out. The chains unhooked from the table, and clattered as they fell from his wrists onto the metal table. He shook out his hands and rubbed at his wrists.

“I'm over her.”

“And I'm the virgin queen of Ba Sing Se,” Toph said, standing with a scrape of her chair legs on the floor. She put her hands flat on the table, and regarded him with her blind eyes that saw so much it could be unsettling.

Sokka scowled at her. This wasn't about Azula. It wasn't.

Azula was long gone, a memory, a ghost that haunted his dreams, who had left an aching void where she had once been. A void he'd tried to fill with booze, bruises and bare knuckles.

Sometimes he could even bring himself to believe the lie that he was over her, but only just. Sometimes... Sometimes he wanted nothing more than charge across the world, to storm the very walls of Ba Sing Se just to get her back...

_But she was only mine that night..._

“It's not about her,” he said heavily. “It's about answers.”

“I hope you get them, Sokka, I do,” Toph said with a sigh. “I just hope the price for those answers isn't too high. They're not worth your life. Nothing is worth that.”

Sokka reached out and took his friend's hand, squeezing tightly. Toph squeezed it back and then shook her head.

“You're an idiot.”

“I know,” he said apologetically.

“If you get killed I will murder you,” she said, and that knocked a laugh out of him. He wasn't used to laughing these days, and the sound was rusty and tired. But it was enough to put her at ease.

“I'll try not to.”

“Good,” she said, and let go of his hand. He watched as she went over to the door, and spoke with her officers on the other side. He watched her for a moment and then looked down at his bloody knuckles.

_Not worth my life? You're wrong about that, Toph. It's worth more than that. Somewhere, there's someone who knows what really happened in Rinchaka Falls, and I intend to find them. Even if it kills me. I have to._


	5. Four

****“All right, that's a no for the fish dish and a yes for the vegetarian,” Fen mumbled as he made notes on the paper balanced on his lap. He scanned the menu and then glanced up at them with a satisfied look on his face. “Well, I think that's it. I'm scheduling a taste test for each dish next week, so you can get rid of anything you hate, and we can talk about substitutions, and finalize the menu.”

“I'm sure it will be fine, Fen,” Suki said, rubbing the back of her neck tiredly. “The chef has never let us down.”

“I just want everything to be perfect for your big day,” Fen said, putting his pencil and the menu back into his bag. “You appointed me as your wedding planner, and I intend to make it a day you won't forget.”

Zuko smiled a little and reached over, taking Suki's hand. “I don't think that's going to be a problem.”

Suki squeezed his hand and leaned into his chest, while he dropped the arm he'd draped over the back of the couch down onto her shoulder. Fen started to stand, but stopped, hesitating.

“Oh, and I nearly forgot, but I had a message from the Grand Sage. He said he regrets that he is unable to meet with us this week, but to try again next week,” Fen said, glancing nervously at them both.

Suki's head lifted off his shoulder, and he saw her brows draw down as she frowned.

“He's been busy every time we've requested a meeting with him,” Suki said carefully.

Fen fiddled with the strap on his leather satchel. “Yes, and the wedding date is drawing close. We need to work on the vows and the staging if we're to hold it at the Fire Sage Temple, with the Grand Sage presiding over the ceremony. That takes time...and... Well, I don't want to press the issue, but I've felt like he was ducking me.”

“Why would he do that?” Zuko mused, rubbing Suki's shoulder. “Surely he has to know why we want to talk to him. Maybe he's just busy?”

“Too busy to speak to the Fire Lord? Not likely,” Fen snorted, and then caught himself. He shot Zuko a guilty look. “But perhaps... I'll send him another message, shall I? A meeting for next week?”

“Yes, and please let him know how urgent it is, and that Suki and I are willing to come to the Temple if that will be more convenient for him. It's been too long since I've been to the Temple anyway,” Zuko said calmly, although his gut was uneasy.

He and the Grand Sage were not exactly the best of friends, not since Zuko had granted gays the right to marry. The Grand Sage had been entirely opposed to it, and unfortunately Fire Nation law, and the laws of the temple, allowed the temple the right to refuse to marry anyone they liked, for whatever reason they chose. Zuko didn't like it, but there was nothing he could do about it. The government was not in the business of dictating anyone's religious beliefs.

No matter how backward they were.

And since government officials—judges, mayors, high-ranking military officers—were able to perform marriages outside of the temples, Zuko had conceded the Grand Sage his small victory. He hadn't liked it, but his hands had been tied.

Their feud over marriage equality was several years old now, and while things between himself and the Grand Sage weren't exactly warm, he'd thought things were at least cordial between them. He couldn't see why the Grand Sage would be avoiding him. The entire Fire Nation knew that he and Suki were getting married soon, surely the Sage knew why they wanted to speak to him.

“I'll send a messenger first thing in the morning,” Fen said, nodding. “I'm sure his duties are the reason for his...uh...preoccupation.”

“I'm sure it is,” Suki mumbled, bouncing the leg she had crossed over the other. “Thank you, Fen.”

“As always.... My Lord,” Fen said, bowing to Zuko, then to Suki. “Seneschal. Until the council meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Goodnight,” Zuko said as his overworked secretary and wedding planner bowed out of their suite. The door closed behind him, leaving them both in the silence of their lushly appointed sitting room. Suki was staring at the floor, still bouncing her leg, and chewing on her bottom lip.

Zuko watched her bounce it for a moment and then reached over, putting a hand on her knee. She started, looking up at him guiltily.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sukes...”

He lifted his brow, watching as she tugged on her bottom lip in that way that he loved. He knew her so well, and he could tell when something was bothering her. Suki saw the look on his face and sighed, lifting a hand to push her reddish brown hair out of her eyes.

“It's nothing, it's just... One of the girls heard something. Some highborn was... Well, they were saying the wedding wouldn't happen, that...”

Zuko frowned. “That what?”

“That I'm not high born enough, and that it was illegal for you to marry me,” Suki said. “And maybe that's why the Grand Sage is ducking us.”

Zuko laughed a little and pulled his arm around her, snuggling against her on the couch. “And since when were rumors in this palace ever correct?”

Suki shook her head. “It's not like it's not true, Zuko.”

“It's not.”

“I am low born!”

“Yes, you are. You're the sexiest little peasant I've ever seen, and I'm going to marry you,” Zuko said, grinning as he leaned in to her ear. He landed a kiss on her temple, but she pushed back and gave him a Look.

“Stop trying to flirt with me, Zuko. I'm serious! What if it is illegal?”

Zuko's humor faded at the seriousness in her voice. He sat up and half-turned to face her on the couch, taking both of her hands in his. “Suki, where is this coming from?”

Suki looked down at their joined hands and shrugged. “I don't know. I just... This isn't the first time I've heard someone say it. And they're not the first person in this palace that has expressed concern over our marriage. The only thing anyone seems to agree on lately is that I'm not good enough for you.”

“That's absolutely fucking bullshit,” Zuko said. An icy thread of anger knifed through his guts at that. “Who's said that? One of the council?”

Suki's head shot up at that; he knew she could hear the anger in his voice. “No, no, it's not like that, Zuko, and what did I tell you about protecting me?”

“That you didn't need protecting from the nasty things people say about you, and that me getting angry and stepping in to stop it would just make it all the worse, because then they wouldn't learn to respect you?” he offered bitterly.

This was an old discussion. After they had announced their engagement, the rumor mill in the palace had gone to the extreme, with the nastiest, most vicious rumors and insults being hurled at Suki from every corner of his court. And, although less blatantly, from his council as well. They tried to tell him they only felt that way out of concern, or they said it was bad timing, or that he was young, but they still felt the need to voice their unasked for opinion and it angered Zuko, to put it mildly.

Zuko had reacted by blowing up when he'd found out, even threatening to replace his councilors. Suki had stopped him, insisting that he back down, that she could fight her own battles, and that she needed to earn their respect that way. She thought that if Zuko stepped in, she would appear weak, and that would make everything worse.

“I can protect myself, and they need to remember that. If you're fighting my battles for me, they'll think I'm hiding behind your power... And they'll never respect me. Or you for choosing someone you had to protect,” she'd said.

Zuko wasn't so sure about that. He was pretty sure kicking every single person who had a negative thing to say about the woman he loved out of his palace was the way to handle it, but he respected Suki's need to defend herself. He knew she was strong enough to do so...he just didn't think she had to do it alone. He knew that if he ignored her wishes and stepped in like he wanted to, she would be insulted. And that might put friction between them.

Suki was fierce about her independence. It just one of the million things he loved about her... But it still went against every single one of his instincts to leave her to face the wolves alone.

He didn't like it, and she knew it, but he had agreed. So the rumor mill kept running, and all he could do was be there for when someone went too far. It helped that Suki wasn't the type of women who cared much about people saying bad things about her, especially when those things were untrue.

But she was still human. And some things cut deep, no matter how tough she was.

“I don't think there's anything I can do to earn their respect. At least not the ones who are most vocally against me marrying you.”

“So then fuck those people,” Zuko said heatedly. “Their opinions don't mean a damned thing. Not to me. And they never will.”

“They're your people.”

“My _people_ , the citizens of the Fire Nation, love you!” Zuko said heatedly. “They threw flowers at your feet when we visited that hospital last month, remember? And the children in that burn ward...they were more interested in seeing the beautiful future Fire Lady than me. They adored you. And when we launched that new ship? The crowd was chanting 'kiss! kiss!” at us, and they cheered for five minutes when we finally did. My people don't care that you're from the Earth Kingdom. _They_ don't care that you're not highborn, or a Firebender...or whatever else the asshole contingent is trying to throw in your face. They've accepted you.”

“But there are people who don't want me to marry you, Zuko, and what if--”

“I have a pretty good guess about who those people are, Suki. Most of the nobles, and no few members of my council, wanted me to marry some Fire Nation girl....a girl they just happened to be related to. Daughters, nieces, granddaughters... They're angry because they couldn't weasel their way into the royal family, with all the prestige and favor that comes with it. No matter who I marry, they will hate her, because she's not the girl they picked out for me. It's not _you_ they're really angry with, Suki, it's me for not being a good little Fire Lord and falling for their chosen sacrifice.”

Suki stared at their hands for a moment. “I know that, Zuko. It's just... What if it is illegal?”

Zuko laughed a little. “It's not. There's no law saying that the Fire Lord has to marry a Fire Nation citizen, and there's nothing that says he or she has to be highborn, or a Firebender. Or, thanks to me, of the opposite sex. I had Fen look it up back when I was rewriting the marriage equality laws. I didn't like the idea of not being able to marry anyone I wanted to. Turns out, there's nothing to worry about.”

Some of the anxiety eased out of Suki's face and she looked up at him, still worrying her lip between her teeth. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. They can't stop me from marrying you, Suki. And if anyone tries, I will burn them. Alive. Screaming. Over the course of several days.”

Suki laughed a little and the rest of her anxiety melted away. “I believe you would.”

“You should. I love you, you know. Besides, if they'd pull their heads out of their asses they would realize that I'm the one marrying above my station.”

Suki sighed gustily. “That's true. I'm too good for you.”

“Damn, I was hoping you wouldn't catch on.”

“You're lucky I find dorks sexy,” Suki said, smiling that bright smile that showed off the dimples in her cheeks. It warmed Zuko straight to his toes and he leaned in and kissed her. He meant it to be a playful kiss, but almost immediately it turned into something a lot more carnal. Suki threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down across her body. He settled over her on the couch, kissing her deeply. She had one hand in his long hair, the other rubbing his back.

He hummed his pleasure against her sweet-tasting lips and felt fire course through him when her tongue flicked against his. Yes, this was right. This was where he wanted to be, always. With this woman, this amazing, smart, funny, beautiful woman...

They made love on the couch, too wrapped up in each other to move to the bedroom. When Suki arched into him, taking all of him, he smiled softly, staring into her hazy blue eyes, watching in rapt fascination as she found her climax. She shook and shivered beneath him, clutching him to her.

“I love you,” Zuko whispered she stroked his lower back, her hips lifting into the gentle rock of his own, taking him in deep and slow.

“I love you, too...” she said, pulling him down into her arms, into her warm, supple body. And then he was lost. In her, in bliss...in the feeling of knowing exactly where he belonged. When he was close, he started to pull out, but she stopped him, drawing up her legs and holding him inside of her. “Don't... I need...”

But he knew. He kissed her hard, taking her in commanding strokes as she kissed him back, urging him on until, with a tremble and a rough moan that spilled across both of their lips, he came inside of her warm, grasping body.

He pulled back to stare into her eyes again as she worked her hips forward and back, the look on her flushed face sated. She rubbed his lower back as he trembled above her, the last of his orgasm shivering through his system. Then he fell into her arms again, suddenly boneless.

He felt Suki's mouth land on his neck immediately. She nibbled on his flesh, finding his pulse point as he lay there atop her in a state of stupid, hazy bliss. She worked his neck with her teeth and tongue while he groaned and trembled, the sweat cooling on his back. She hit a particularly sensitive spot that made his cock twitch and harden inside of her. Zuko breathed out, pushing his head into her sweaty hair.

He licked a droplet of sweat off of her neck and then whispered in her ear, “If you don't stop that I'm going to fuck you again.”

“Oh no...” Suki said, a pout in her voice. “What a shame.”

And she lifted into him, hard, taking him to the hilt again. Zuko growled and slammed his mouth to hers, cutting off the laugh that bubbled up out of her.

He took her again, both of them clinging to each other, covered in sweat. They came together the second time, and he didn't pull out of her again. She bit her lip, her head tilting back on the cushion as their bodies gave, crashing against one another.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Zuko breathed and collapsed on top of her again. He pulled out of her this time, his ear pressed to her chest so that he could hear her racing heart. She laughed and stretched beneath him, cat-like.

“I just did...” she said. “Twice.”

“You...sound very pleased with yourself,” he said, lifting his head to stare at her through the strands of his long, tangled hair. Suki reached out, pushing at the mess with a laugh.

“I am,” Suki said, cupping his face as he rested his chin between her breasts. Her smile turned a little shy, and she bit down on her lip again. “We shouldn't have done that.”

“Made love?”

“No...you shouldn't come inside of me. Not until after we're married. What if I got pregnant?”

He grinned lazily, the thought making him feel incredibly, stupidly hopeful. “What if you did? But, you're still taking moonflower...”

“I am, but it doesn't always work.”

“Well, you were the one who didn't want me to pull out. So greedy...” he said with a grin and kissed the slope of one creamy white breast.

She flushed prettily. “Sex-brained me makes poor decisions, you know this. Besides, if I got pregnant before the wedding, that could cause a lot of problems, the least of which is my dress not fitting right, and my mother murdering you in your sleep.”

He thought a moment and then grimaced. “I can see your point. Next time we'll be more careful, moonflower or no moonflower.”

“Good, and don't listen to me if I say otherwise, no matter how close you are.”

“Yes, Seneschal. I solemnly swear to cum on your stomach from now on,” he said with a grin, propping himself up across her, his hair falling forward over both of their faces. Suki smiled and sighed beneath him.

“See that you do, Fire Lord Zuko.”

They stared at one another for a moment, as Zuko thought about what it would be like if he did get her pregnant tonight. The chances were incredibly slim, but they were there, and he found the idea incredibly intoxicating.

There was so much opposition to their wedding. Too much. And it bothered him, no matter what he said to her. It bothered him most to stand back and let her face the dissenters alone. He was going to snap eventually, and he knew that she knew that. Maybe she'd forgive him. He hoped so. One thing he knew for certain: he was going to marry Suki. Eventually, they would get pregnant. Maybe not this year, or even the next, but...eventually...

He wanted that life with her. It was all he'd ever wanted from the moment he'd realized he was head over heels in love with her. From that moment on, there had never been anyone else in his future, and he'd known it, even if he hadn't wanted to admit it. It was why he hadn't been able to get over her, even though she had still been dating Sokka. The more he'd resisted it, the harder he'd fallen...until he hadn't been able to hide it.

It was why those rumors about them had started in the first place, after all. It was why he'd kissed her, when she'd nearly died trying to save him from an assassin. It was why he'd had eyes for no one else at that stupid ball his council had thrown. Nearly a thousand beautiful girls...and the only woman he'd wanted had been the only woman he shouldn't have wanted at all.

And yet... Yet here they were.

“You make me happy,” he said seriously. “Did you know that?”

“Do I?” Suki mused, showing her dimples again. “Well, it's mutual.”

“You make me want to give you the world.”

Her eyes lit up with amusement. “The world, huh? I'm pretty sure there was a really long war about why it would be a bad idea to try.”

“Yes, but this would be for love, not power.”

“Makes all the difference, I suppose. What would I do with the world?”

“You? I have no doubt you'd make it a better place. Don't think I didn't hear about the Fire Lady's Bread.”

Suki flushed again. “That was supposed to be a surprise for the wedding!”

“I wasn't snooping around, I promise. Guo told me. I think he thought I already knew about it.”

“Most likely he thought you would disapprove and stop me,” Suki said, the smile sliding off of her lips.

“Well, he miscalculated. I think it's brilliant, and I matched your donation with one of my own from the crown's coffers. I was going to tell you over dinner...but...well...” Zuko said, gesturing to their naked bodies as he sat up and sank back onto the couch. Suki sat up too, her lips twisting.

“Thank you, but...”

Zuko grabbed his shirt off of the floor and laid across his lap, watching as Suki curled her legs up, clawing at her tangled hair. “But...you wanted to feed all of the children of the Fire Nation with your own money?”

“It's not _my_ money, it's the crown's money. _Your_ money,” she said firmly, while he grinned. “Someone's money, but not mine.”

“It's the Fire Lady's fund, and you're going to be the Fire Lady, Suki. So it belongs to you.”

“And what am I supposed to do with two million Yuans a year? Spend it all on jewels? And pretty dresses?” she grumped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I have dresses. I have jewels. And I can't wear any of them while I'm working, so they're useless.”

The Fire Lady's stipend had come as a shock to Suki, and she'd loudly been declaring that she didn't need that much money...or any at all, ever since. She had insisted that the wage she earned as Seneschal was more than enough to cover any of her needs.

“Some Fire Ladies spend it on that,” Zuko said with a shrug. “And some do charity work. Every year my mother donated a portion to the Fire Sage Temple, a local theater company, and a school. I donate a portion of my money to charities as well, because of her example. The money is yours, Suki...and you can spend it however you want it.”

“Well, I _don't_ want it,” she said hotly. “And we're spending so much on the wedding already... It feels wrong when there are children out there starving, and I just thought if they could all have a decent meal, well that's not so bad, is it?”

“No, it's not a bad thing at all,” Zuko said, smiling at her. “That's why I told Guo we would be making it a regular thing, and to allocate funds for the project. With the seed money from your stipend and the money I'm donating, we should be able to get it off of the ground, and keep it running.”

Suki's face lit up at that. “Are you serious? I thought we'd only have enough to provide bread and some cakes or fruit for each child for a week as a sort of gift for the wedding...but this... Zuko...” She rubbed at her eyes while he fought the urge to launch himself on her again, to taste the smile hovering on her lips, to feel her joy surge into him.

“The truth is, it's something I should have thought of a long time ago, Suki. But...well, I don't know why I didn't. I mean, I know there are people who go hungry in the Fire Nation, children among them. It's not like I didn't know it, but it never occurred to me to do something so direct about it. But you did. That's how I know you're going to be a good Fire Lady. Probably a better Fire Lady than I am a Fire Lord. No, _definitely_ better,” he said warmly, as Suki scooted across the couch and settled across his lap.

She was still naked, and warm with sweat from their lovemaking. He caressed her back, and spread his hand on her waist as she leaned in and kissed him long and hard.

“Thank you,” she said when she pulled back.

“It was your idea and a damned good one, too. So thank _you._ ”

“Can the crown afford it?”

“Baby, the Fire Nation successfully ran a war for a hundred years. Wars are very profitable. We can afford it and then some. Like I said, it's something I should have thought of a long time ago.”

“Well, now you don't have to get me a groom's gift,” she said smugly.

“Oh, no! This doesn't count!” Zuko said with a laugh. “I'm still getting you something extravagant, something just for you and you can't stop me!”

Suki blew out a breath, making her hair fly out of her sweat-reddened face. “You Fire Nation types with your stupid money and your stupid gifts...”

“The groom's gift isn't stupid, it's a gift of love.”

“If you love me, you won't get me anything. Or at least let me get you something, too.”

“You said yes when I proposed, that's all the gift I need.”

Suki rolled her eyes. “We don't have this tradition in the Earth Kingdom. Brides have a dowry, which they give to their husbands.”

“What's in this dowry?”

“Things for a household... Dishes. Material, usually. Some jewelry. Maybe family heirlooms. Livestock. A bride saves up her entire life to present a good dowry.”

“Do you have a dowry?”

Suki laughed. “No, I don't. I was a Kyoshi Warrior. We're not allowed to get married while we wear our paint, and it just never seemed like a priority to put together a dowry while Sokka and I were dating, so I never did. And you have plenty of dishes and livestock.”

Zuko frowned. “Is that why you left the Warriors? So we could marry? You never told me.”

“No, I left because we were going to get each other killed if I was your bodyguard,” Suki said with a laugh. “But...I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about the possibility of marrying you when I made my decision. You hadn't asked me yet, but I thought, perhaps...”

“And you were right.”

“I was. I'm still a Warrior, though. We never stop being Warriors. We're just not considered on active duty, so to speak.”

“Good, I don't want you to ever give up something you love just to be with me. I'm not worth that.”

Suki's face softened a little and she twirled his hair around her finger.

“You're sweet, but that's a Kyoshi tradition. Warriors who wish to marry and start a family cannot devote themselves to protecting the island, too...at least, that's the tradition. I've never completely agreed with it, but that's the way it is. That's why most of us are so young when we serve.”

“Traditions are important, but I agree with you. Just because you're married doesn't mean you can't be a warrior. Does the island need that much protecting?”

“Asks the guy who burned down my village,” Suki said dryly. Zuko colored.

“Okay, good point,” he mumbled. “But is it a huge problem?”

“It is, actually. Kyoshi is a small island and we're separated from the mainland, so there's no Earth Kingdom protection to speak of. We get pirate raids every spring, and even with the Warriors patrolling the island constantly, they still do a lot of damage. That's why the Warriors were formed, because we had to protect ourselves. We may as well not even be a part of the Earth Kingdom for all they take notice of us.”

Zuko blinked at that and then smiled. Suki tilted her head, her eyes narrowing.

“What's that look about?”

“Nothing,” Zuko said, and then he kissed her. “Nothing at all.”

But his mind was whirring.


End file.
